A nod to hippies, girlfriend cookies, and surfers.

The official face of Mondays.

You know what else happens on Mondays? Brain dump. 

[1] At least it's payday Monday. 6:24 alarm clocks are a little less painful when you notice the email saying you've got some fresh dollars in your bank account at least.

[2] We are officially 44 days away from being Australia-bound. That's scary. List of things that are planned: our flight. That's it.

[3] I'll admit to occasionally wishing my other lung would collapse, mostly because I got a little spoiled not having an alarm clock for 6 weeks, and also being able to watch Kelly & Michael every morning. The hospital made really good omelettes also.

[4] My dad let me use his power tools yesterday. He's not a Jesus kind of man, but I'm pretty sure I caught him doing the up, down, left right cross motion as he handed the air-nailer over to me.

[4a] I won't ruin the surprise of what I am making. Mostly because it probably will either go awry or I'll just get bored of the project, either way if it miraculously ever gets finished I'll share. Until then, use your imagination.

[5] I brought in freshly baked girlfriend cookies for a bunch of the guys I work with. I'm not stupid. I know how to get ahead in this world.

[6] That was clearly a joke. I brought them for the guys who carry down boxes for me every day when FedEx brings them. Believe me, they deserve cookies.

[7] I wish I was wearing a hippieband like in that picture above. Any day is better with a hippieband.

[8] I'm not really a fan of the term headband. Blair Waldorff wears headbands. Hippiebands go across your forehead; headbands go on top of your head.

[9] Did I mention that we leave for Australia in like a month and a half? If anyone has ever been to Sydney, Cairns or Brisbane, throw some recommendations my way. Our list of things to do literally consists of "shrimp on the barbie, shamelessly flirt with surfer dudes, pet koalas "

[10] On that note I think it's time to close out this post. I've made myself seem incredibly airheaded. Check back tomorrow, I may actually compose something of value. 

Mixer & Mingle Fridays : Pour some syrup on me

I'm personally an advocate for pancakes year round, so I am not completely sure why fall becomes the pinnacle of "maple syrup".

I'm not one to complain though. It seems like this is the season of syrupy sweetness. And there's a plethora of liquors to match it.

[Jim Beam Maple // Canadian Mist Maple // Knob Creek Smoked Maple]

(Not to be an advocate of mixing liquor and energy drink, but I have heard that a certain blueberry flavored popular enery drink plus these taste a whole lot like blueberry pancakes)

Have no fear, if whiskey isn't your cup of tea, it seems there's also a bourbon barrel-aged maple syrup suitable for kiddos and non-drinkers alike!

What do you think? Will you be tapping into this maple train?

Turning of the seasons and the tunes.

Summer time is made for country music. There's no question there... but now that the mornings are chilly and the days are shorter, it just feels weird blaring some song where they're crooning about tanlines and tiki torches.

Here's what I've been jamming on lately, my Be Easy mix. Enjoy!

Adding arm charms the worst way.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.


Three surgeries in 2013. Let's hope I can round out the year without adding anymore arm charms to the collection!

The one perk, I hit my deductible many moons ago, and everything's been covered at 100%. God bless you health insurance HA!

 

The only thing mingling around here is my anxiety

Fridays are generally designated drinking days around these woods. But I can't even muster up a Mixer and Mingle post.

5:30 Monday morning I'll be heading back to the hospital to change into that blue printed gown. I'll lay down on the bed, with the stark white sheets, the heated blanket, and wince as they insert an IV into my arm. I'll stare up at those taunting operating room lights one more time as I drift off into an induced nap.

Hopefully I'll wake up an hour or two later sans gallbladder and no other issues. But 2013 hasnt really been the year where things go as planned.

It's not really even the surgery that has me nervous, it's the post-op and the recovery. The lung operation jaded me. I have a hard time believing there could be any worse feeling than that early morning excruciating pain I had, and then the emotional and psychological side of it.

Maybe I was a little bit crazy, maybe I still am crazy being this worried about a simple outpatient procedure. Regardless it's still someone being inside my body effing with an organ I was born with, and I think that's grounds enough to have a bit of anxiety.

Maybe if you've got some good juju lying around, throw it my way? I promise to repay the favor one day!

The time I was gifted two kegs.

Let's say a friend of a friend of yours is pretty well off. Really well off. Like, in a 'I run a country' well off.

And this friend comes in town over Labor Day weekend, so your friend orders a keg of his favorite beer to have in his hotel room while he is here.

Of course, he had already planned ahead and had his own means of libating (is that a word? It is now. Chelsea definition: drinking)

And so at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon you get this text:

(insert salsa dancing iPhone emoji here, because I probably did that little shuffle across my kitchen when I read the text)

Well... this was my life Labor Day weekend. I may have done the dance again when I go to pick it up and it's not one keg, but two kegs of Pacifico.

Conveniently, my mama's 21st birthday* is the last day of August. Birthing a child on Labor Day weekend? Genius. Who doesn't want 3day celebrations for the rest of their life?

We had a big cookout shebang at their place Saturday night. Of course, I pulled the best daughter EVER card and make her entire party incredibly well hydrated.

Killed one of two that night. Movin right along! Loaded up and took the other to a pool party the next day with a very firm "no one is leaving until this keg is floating". A full day of sun and beer lead to a lot of other shenanigans.

To say anyone made it past 10pm that night would be a flat.out.lie.

Dear friend of a friend, thank you very much for helping us to celebrate our labors, it was very much appreciated. 

*Yes, my mother turned 21. Again. She has turned 21 every year since her coughcough 50th birthday.
 

Glug goes my gallbladder: pack your bags.

Closing in on another month chocked full of gallbaby fun.

I saw my surgeon last week. He was the same doctor who was assigned to me when I spent many a moon at the hospital with my popped lung back in March. Naturally, he laughed when he walked into the room and saw me sitting there. His wife was the thoracic surgeon who actually performed my lung surgery.

Needless to say, I'm giving their family one HELL of a Christmas this year. You. Are. Welcome. (Santa goes by the name of Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield this year)

He drew me a really great picture showing how your gallbladder works in the grand scheme of things, and where he'd cut me open, and how they pull it out through your belly button. He tossed the disc of ultrasounds and HIDA scan images into his computer and said there actually were gallstones, contrary to what my family doctor tried to tell me.

He said there wasn't much more to discuss, that we could either remove it now, or wait. And I told him I missed eggs and bacon dearly, and am tired of puking my guts out, and he said "alright, let's get you on the books for September 23rd. Let your work know you'll be out for the week". And I did. And hell, it's starting to look like I may even get luckier and get bumped up to the 16th now but lets not get our hopes up.

Dear gallbaby, it's almost time for you to get yanked out. I can't say I'll miss you. You've been a royal pain in my ass, but thanks for making me so well acquainted with every toilet in the tri-county area. Adios mothatrucka.

Also, don't ever do a Google image search for gallstones. Just don't.  

Aunted, again.

Miss Emily Ann made her grand debut!

   

09.03.2013 // 7lb, 13oz // 19"